


Changing the Locks

by kjack89



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:02:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16487951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/kjack89
Summary: “What’re you doing?” Courfeyrac asked with mild curiosity.“Changing the locks,” Grantaire grunted around the cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth.“Oh,” Courfeyrac said. “Why?”Grantaire stabbed the screwdriver into the waiting screw with more force than was even remotely necessary. “Enjolras comes home today.”





	Changing the Locks

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Courfeyrac whistled cheerfully as he took the steps up to Enjolras and Grantaire’s apartment two at a time, though both he and the whistling slowed as he saw Grantaire, screwdriver in hand. “What’re you doing?” Courfeyrac asked with mild curiosity. **  
**

“Changing the locks,” Grantaire grunted around the cigarette dangling precariously from his mouth.

“Oh,” Courfeyrac said. “Why?”

Grantaire stabbed the screwdriver into the waiting screw with more force than was even remotely necessary. “Enjolras comes home today.”

“Ah.”

Enjolras had been away for the past week on a business trip. A business trip that happened to fall right on Enjolras and Grantaire’s one year anniversary.

Enjolras had insisted he had accidentally scheduled the trip for that week.

Judging by the more than slightly maniacal gleam in Grantaire’s eye and the scent of whiskey wafting off him in waves as he screwed the new deadbolt into place, he didn’t agree.

Courfeyrac leaned in and plucked the cigarette from Grantaire’s mouth, raising it to his own and inhaling deeply. “Want some help?” he asked.

Grantaire grunted and took a step back, eyeing his handiwork. “Pretty sure I’m done,” he said, stealing his cigarette back. “Besides, shouldn’t you be on Enjolras’s side?”

“Didn’t know there were sides,” Courfeyrac said mildly. “But if there were, I’m on whichever side is bound to be more hilarious.”

Grantaire considered that for a moment. “Fair,” he pronounced, stabbing his cigarette against the brick wall. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?”

“Getting drunk.”

Courfeyrac grinned. “Excellent.”

* * *

 

The sound of keys in the lock could barely be heard over Courfeyrac and Grantaire’s giggles. “Shh,” Grantaire hushed, followed immediately by a hiccup.

They both managed to stay relatively silent, listening to the increasingly frustrated noise of the keys in the locks, and they took turns peeking through the window as Enjolras tried desperately to get the door open. Finally, they heard Enjolras sigh, followed by a bang on the door. “Grantaire?” Enjolras called. “R, it’s me, let me in. There’s something wrong with my keys.”

Courfeyrac turned to press his face against Grantaire’s shoulder to muffle his giggles. “There’s no Grantaire here,” Grantaire called back.

“What?” Enjolras said blankly. “Grantaire, I know that’s you.”

“This isn’t Grantaire,” Courfeyrac called this time, in a falsetto tone.

Enjolras sighed, pounding on the door again. “Courf, I know that’s you, I would know your drunk voice anywhere. What, did you two start the ‘welcome home’ party a little early?”

“Welcome home?” Grantaire repeated, all trace of humor disappearing, and Courfeyrac sat upright, looking at Grantaire with wide eyes. “Welcome _home_? You think I’m gonna throw you a party for bothering to show up after abandoning me on our anniversary?”

There was another thunk on the door, this time sounding less like Enjolras’s fist and more like his forehead hitting the door. “Grantaire,” he said, his voice sounding strained, even through the door, “I know you’re mad at me. I deserve it. I probably even deserve you, what, changing the locks on me? But I had a really long flight, and I would really like to come in.”

Grantaire didn’t respond and Enjolras sighed again. “Please.”

Courfeyrac poked Grantaire in the stomach. “Come _on_ ,” he whined, giving Grantaire his best puppy dog eyes. “He said please. _And_ sorry. You know that’s a big deal for him.”

Though Grantaire scowled and batted Courfeyrac’s hand away, he nonetheless rolled his eyes and stood, unsteadily, to make his way to the door and unlock it. “Well,” Grantaire said, trying to put his hands on his hips and missing. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

In response, Enjolras grabbed Grantaire around his waist and kissed him with such intensity that he forced him back against the wall. Grantaire didn’t even bother pretending to put up a fight, melting into the kiss and balling a fist in Enjolras’s shirt, pulling him even closer.

Enjolras cupped Grantaire’s face with both hands, kissing him hungrily, and probably would have for much longer had Courfeyrac not whistled low under his breath and said, “ _Damn_ ”, in far too appreciative a tone.

Enjolras and Grantaire reluctantly broke apart, though neither moved more than a few inches from each other. “Hi,” Enjolras said, kissing Grantaire once more.

“Hi,” Grantaire returned with a small smile. “I missed you.”

“Yeah, enough to change the locks on the door, apparently.”

Grantaire’s grin widened. “Oops.”

Before he could say anything more, he swayed so hard he would’ve fallen over were Enjolras still not mostly holding him upright, and Enjolras frowned. “You’re drunk,” he said.

Grantaire let out a scandalized gasp. “How dare you?” he said, pressing a hand against his chest. “Me? Intoxicated?”

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. “That would’ve been more convincing has you not slurred when you said ‘intoxicated’.”

Courfeyrac cackled. “He’s got you there.”

Enjolras didn’t even bother looking over at Courfeyrac. “You don’t exactly have a leg to stand on here, Courf.”

“That is a scurrilous accusation and I shall not stand for it.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing you’re sitting on the floor,” Enjolras said calmly, still not bothering to look at Courfeyrac. “What do you say I get you to bed, hmm?”

Grantaire nodded, his head bobbing a little too far and a little too hard to just be a simple nod, and he stumbled forward to rest his head against Enjolras’s chest. “Sleep,” he managed, and Enjolras laughed lightly, brushing the hair off of Grantaire’s forehead.

Courfeyrac stumbled to his feet. “What, you’re just going to leave me here?” he protested.

“No, you’re going to take yourself home where Combeferre can deal with your drunk ass,” Enjolras told him, putting an arm around Grantaire’s waist. “And in the meantime, I’m going to get my boyfriend to bed before he passes out on me.”

“What’re you gonna do to him in bed?” Courfeyrac asked, leering at both of them.

“I’m going to put him to sleep,” Enjolras said sternly. “He’s not sober enough for what I originally had in mind for when I finally got home.”

“Gimme an hour and I will be,” Grantaire mumbled against Enjolras’s shoulder.

Courfeyrac and Enjolras both ignored him. “What about tomorrow morning, then?” Courfeyrac asked, waggling his eyebrows in what he clearly thought was a charming way.

“Goodbye, Courf,” Enjolras said pointedly, closing the door on Courfeyrac’s still-grinning face. He glanced down at Grantaire. “Ready for bed?”

“Mmm,” Grantaire agreed, his eyes already closed.

Enjolras’s smile softened and he bent to kiss Grantaire’s forehead. “I love you, you know.”

“Love you, too,” Grantaire said automatically before blinking blearily up at him. “Sorry I locked you out of our apartment.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not,” Grantaire agreed.

Enjolras laughed lightly before telling him, “Sorry I missed our anniversary.”

“S’okay,” Grantaire told him, nestling his head more firmly against Enjolras’s shoulder. “You’ll make it up to me.”

“Yeah,” Enjolras said, reaching into his pocket to touch the ring box he’d been carrying around with him all day. “I imagine I will.”


End file.
